


Bjørnesagn

by batrachian



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batrachian/pseuds/batrachian
Summary: A reunion on the ice, some years later.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Bjørnesagn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopefulNebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/gifts).



"Look, Pan. Bears!" Lyra pointed over the edge of the balloon basket and down to the ice of Svalbard below, where several panserbjørne were visible as dark metallic patches.

"And _that_ is a fire hurler." Pantalaimon gestured at a small knot of bears gathered around the familiar machinery. "We should land, and quickly."

"Iorek wouldn't do anything to us, Pan, you know that."

"I don't see Iorek, and more importantly they don't know who _we_ are. And we are sitting here in a very large target made of, need I remind you, silk. We can sort everything out once we're on the ground."

A muffled THUMP from below cut off the argument suddenly, as Pan lunged for the emergency air release. The sudden drop caused the ball of flame to pass harmlessly overhead, but quickly revealed another problem.

"We're going down too fast, you let out too much air!"

"I'd rather have that than a hole in the balloon. Just hang on."

And they did, as the balloon basket landed on the ice with a jarring crunch. Lyra scrambled up and saw that the bears had all converged on the landing site.

"Human." The leader of the group spoke up. "You will come with us."

"You shot at us! And besides, I need to gather up the canopy, check the basket to make sure nothing broke from the landing because it was a little rushed, thanks."

The bear regarded Lyra patiently. "It will be seen to. Now. This way; the king will wish to speak with you."

***

"What do you have this time?" The palace guard looked over Lyra and her escort with a bored eye.

"A human spy!"

"For the last time, I am _not_ a spy. I'm a Scholar from Oxford, Iorek is a friend, we tried to get a message through but it must have gotten lost or something."

"You should know that bears have precious few friends among the human folk these days. Nevertheless, you may enter and speak with the king, at least if he can be pried away from his forge." The guard stepped aside to let them through, then paused. "And, Gustav? At least try not to get yourself thrown out this time."

A low grunt from Lyra's companion was the only reply, as they walked down the open hallway towards a distant sound of ringing metal.

"It looks different around here," Pan whispered in Lyra's ear, "more ice."

"Of course it does, all that marble and gold and stuff was Iofur's idea. It has been a while, though; I wonder what they did with it all? The ice and stone certainly look better."

Gustav bristled at the mention of the former king, but declined to say anything in response, instead walking more briskly towards the forge. The noise of something being hammered was deafening, and he had to bellow to be heard.

"King Iorek! We have captured a human spy! She tried to land on the islands in a balloon."

The hammering ceased as the king looked up at his guests. An initial response died on his lips, to be replaced with a deep rumbling laughter.

"Well, well. Little Lyra Silvertongue. It's good to see you again." He motioned to dismiss the other bear. "Old friends, Gunter. I'll be fine, you can go."

Gunter glared back at Lyra just long enough to be noticeable before bowing and retreating sullenly from the room.

"What was that about?" Pantalaimon wondered aloud.

"Gunter Hjalmurson did not prosper under Iofur's rule. Fairly or not, he blames your mother for that, and believes you are here to do the same to me."

An indelicate snort escaped from Lyra. "He doesn't know you very well, does he?"

"Nor you," Iorek agreed comfortably. "So. What brings you to Svalbard?"

"Research. I'm doing a thesis on the history of balloon transport in the North. I've got a bunch of documents about Mr. Scoresby, but my adviser is insistent about primary sources and you've worked with him a lot and I thought we could talk."

"And that's the only reason you visited?" Iorek raised an eyebrow.

Lyra sighed. "No,it's not. It's just that the other reason is...complicated." At a silent wave from the king, she continued. "Well, okay, so first off there's been a bit of a backlash against you, not you personally but just bears in general?"

"This comes as no surprise to me, Lyra. Marisa's meddling in our internal affairs upset many, both here and there."

"Right, so, with all of that and you know, there's ever so much," Lyra paused, momentarily at a loss for a word, " _politics_ involved in being a Scholar. Which meant I couldn't get hardly anybody to listen to me long to get financing to fund the expedition. The only way I could get it to work was to make a deal with an engineer; he's put up the funding for the balloon but wanted me to bring back something in return."

"An engineer?" Iorek's eyes narrowed. "There is only one thing that I can think of that such a man would want from panserbjørne. It is true that we have gathered much of the sky iron to ourselves here on Svalbard, but there are surely other sources in the world."

"It's not just the iron, Iorek. He says he needs a piece of armour. And information on how you make it."

The king snorted dismissively. "No, he certainly does not need it, and will not get it. Not from me, nor any of my bears. Is he actively trying to set up another Bolvangar?"

Lyra winced. "We didn't think of that."

"You should have. And yet, the possibility exists. So, I shall arm you with knowledge. For it is clear that even you who knows most among humans do not truly understand us, and the world is too small for that to continue if bears are to remain bears. Follow me."

"Where are we going?" Pan spoke up, when it became apparent Lyra was still too stunned to respond. 

"To the First Cave, where Greta Isdatter and Erik Havsson shaped the sky iron and became panserbjørne." Iorek padded out of the forge and down the hallway. "You may find their story somewhat familiar, I suspect."

Lyra blinked slowly, nodded, and followed Iorek, lost in thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Title translation: "saga of the bears". Or, more colloquially, "Bear Lore".


End file.
